


Winter

by LaTessitrice



Series: A Marvellous Christmas [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 09:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaTessitrice/pseuds/LaTessitrice
Summary: Winter hits early this year, and it hits hard. Darcy doesn't mind the snow, but not everyone agrees.For F*ckYeahWinterShock's Winter Wonderland Ball. A patchwork of many prompts.





	Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beradan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beradan/gifts), [ibelieveinturtles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/gifts), [HedgehogPie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedgehogPie/gifts).



> I wrote this all in one today and haven't even given it a read through so my bad if it's full of errors. I had to get it up before the end of December and I won't have time on New Year's Day (which it now is, since it's 2.30am). Forgive me if it shows.
> 
> Prompts at the end to avoid potential spoilers.
> 
> This is slightly Civil War AU in that everybody made up at the end and are living together in Stark Tower, like it's 2012 again or something.

Winter hits early this year, and it hits hard.

Darcy’s not about to complain: it’s her favorite season. She can do without black ice, but she’d rather be bundled up in tons of layers than sweating her ass off in the worst of summer, especially in the humidity of New York. New Mexico was a dry heat; Manhattan just soaks up all that warmth in its concrete and glass and reduces Darcy to one big glob of sweat. Air conditioning is the best invention ever, but it doesn’t exist outside where the asphalt reflects the heat back at her, or on the subway when she’s riding around in other people’s perspiration. If anybody ever questions the validity of climate change in her presence, she’s going to drown them in the puddle between her boobs.

So yeah. Darcy digs winter. She can swaddle herself in big cozy sweaters and watch the snow drift from the sky, wrapping her hands around a big mug of hot chocolate. It almost makes the move to New York worth it.

There are a few other things on that very short list of positive things. Darcy likes the city as a place to visit, but she’s not thrilled about living here. Too many people nd not enough manners. She’d have happily stayed in London (even if the Underground was a sweat-box all year round) except Jane was running out of funding and shadowy government agencies were circling. Stark Industries had offered her a secure place to continue research and a measure of protection, with a cast-iron guarantee that she’d retain ownership, and that none of her work would be used for building weapons. Darcy came along for the ride, with an actual salary this time.

The free rent, courtesy of one Tony Stark (via one Pepper Potts) is on the list of good things, especially because that free rent comes in the form of a pretty sweet apartment in Stark Tower and not a shoe box on the furthest stop on the subway.

Another is that she gets to see a lot of Bucky Barnes around the tower.

Darcy has a type, which she likes to summarize as “strong and silent”. Surprisingly few men make the cut and she’d resigned herself to it only being a movie archetype. That was, until Barnes turned up in the lab one day, to quietly sit and observe what they were doing. He likes to do that, between what Pepper makes sound like some pretty hardcore therapy sessions. He doesn’t ask questions and the other scientists confirmed it’s a common thing to see him mutely trespassing, though he will move heavy equipment around without complaint. His presence should be unnerving but he usually looks so forlorn that it’s like having a sad puppy watching you work.

When Darcy sees him around the tower—never in the midst of a group—he’s usually hunched over a book. Science is his preferred topic: _A Brief History of Time_ or some Neil DeGrasse Tyson, so Jane starts leaving out her favorites on the end of benches in case he comes by.

So Barnes is both strong and silent, but also astonishingly pretty beneath all the hair and the beard. It’s a combination Darcy can’t resist. She has it bad. 

He doesn’t seem to know she exists. 

She can live with that. It’s enough to admire him from afar, since she’s sure the aforementioned hardcore therapy doesn’t make him the best prospect for romance. The guy’s been through a lot and Darcy’s not sure she’s looking for anything heavy. Besides, she’d prefer to stay on the fringes of the superhero world, which looks like one big mess from where she’s standing. There’s a lot of adventure involved, sure, but there also seems to be a whole lot of PTSD.

She greets the winter, and the first snow, with open delight, beaming at the first flakes through the window as they waft downward. They’re too far up for her to see if they settle and stick to the ground, but it’s unlikely to happen. Instead they’ll be driven over and churned up underfoot until there’s nothing left but dirty slush. She doesn’t have to see that, only the prettier side close to the sky.

It’s how Steve Rogers finds her in Tony’s workshop, where she’s been sent to fetch some notes Jane lent to him and gets distracted by the snowfall. He clears his throat to attract her attention, and she nearly jumps out of her skin when she notices who it is.

“Is Tony around?” he asks, politely pretending not to notice her reaction.

“No?” she replies, more question of her own than answer. She tries again. “He’s supposed to be, but I don’t know where he is.”

Steve follows her gaze to the falling white flecks outside. “It’s early in the year for snow.”

“Climate change,” she says with feigned authority, and he nods along with her. “I think Tony might have a plan to fix that, though.”

There’s movement behind him, and a familiar figure shuffles into the lab, sticking to the perimeter of the room while he takes in who’s in it.

“Hi, Bucky,” she greets, like she always does, and he doesn’t respond, as ever, beyond a tilt of his head which might be acknowledgment. “I think you wanna be in our room today, Jane’s about to turn on the new spectrometer. Plus she might need you to give it a whack of it’s misbehaving.”

He takes her at her word and disappears.

“You work here?” Steve asks.

“Ah yeah, I’m Jane Foster’s assistant.”

His face breaks into a grin. “So you must be Darcy!”

She gives him a confused smile in return. “Correct. How’d you know?”

“Bucky’s mentioned you.”

That earns him an eyebrow raised. She’s amazed Bucky knows her name, never mind paid enough attention to mention it to Steve. It does mean he isn’t entirely silent though, which is a good sign. The second part of her perfect man equation is not meant to be taken entirely literally.

“I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Dude, I know who you are. The whole world does.”

He’s bashful in response, and Darcy decides then and there she will treat him like she’d treat anyone else. If their paths ever cross again, of course, which isn’t all that likely.

“You want to come watch the potential fireworks in Jane’s lab?”

“No, I really do have to find Tony. And science was always more Bucky’s thing than mine. See you around?”

“Sure. So long as I don’t find out _you’re_ the asshole who’s been stealing Pop Tarts from the lab kitchen!”

He laughs as he walks away, and since there’s no sign of Tony she returns to doing some actual work.

Turns out she sees Steve much sooner than she expected. Wherever Tony was earlier, he’s obviously in the tower, as a couple of hours later there’s a summons sent via FRIDAY for all lab staff to head to the terrace at the very top of the tower.

“This sounds ominous,” Jane murmurs, and Darcy can only agree as they summon an elevator to take them all the way up, wrapping up in coats and scarves. Bucky joins them, and the tension in his body in the small space suggests he’s expecting shit to have gone sideways too.

Tony wearing a manic smile when they reach the terrace. It’s got a decent layer of snow on it—only a foot deep, but untrodden. 

“Compulsory snowman building for all lab staff!” he announces. Jane mutters something under her breath, but Darcy’s thrilled to be out of the lab for a little while. 

Bucky turns right around and gets back into the elevator, disappearing before Tony can argue with him.

“Did he not hear the word compulsory?” Tony asks.

“He doesn’t work in the labs,” Darcy reminds him, already staking out a good spot to start and sculpt her snowman. 

It doesn’t take long for them to be joined by people from other areas of the tower—some vaguely familiar to Darcy though she tries not to gawp openly at the superheroes—and Steve is among them, instantly volunteering to help Jane and Darcy with their work of art.

When they’re done, fingers numbed in the cold, he invites them to whatever kitchen he tends to use, for grilled cheese and coffee. 

“There’s not many people around at the moment,” he says, “I could do with the company.”

So they follow him and even Jane appears a little star-struck in his presence. And she was banging a god on the regular.

Steve’s right, there’s hardly anyone around—only one familiar head of dark hair and beard. She waves at Bucky this time rather than greeting him with words, and he does that twitch with his eyebrows that might mean “hello” or might mean “go away”.

“Missed you upstairs, Buck,” Steve says. “How come you didn’t join in?”

“Snow.” The word is little more than a grunt and carries a ton of meaning behind it.

Darcy can’t help herself. "You really hate the snow that much?"

Bucky looks at her, really looks at her for the first time, and it’s the kind of intense stare that probably makes his enemies cry for their mothers on the battlefield, but only makes her breath catch and her stomach flip.

“I hate the cold whatever form it comes in,” he says gruffly. “New York’s home but I’d rather be on a desert island. Had my fill of winter.”

It’s the most she’s ever heard him say, and she finds herself nodding along. Mostly because she put her foot in it, and is worried that if she responds with actual words she will need surgery to remove said appendage from her mouth. Of course the guy who famously spent decades in ice hates the cold.

“Looks like we might be in for months of it,” Steve says, as he turns on the grill and fetches ingredients from the refrigerator, “so unless you’re moving to that desert island, having a little fun with it isn’t such a bad thing.”

Bucky doesn’t say another word, silently demolishing three grilled cheeses of his own, but Steve proves to be good company, asking Jane about her work and regretting it, before moving onto a scathing review of the most hipster parts of Brooklyn.

Darcy says goodbye to Bucky when they leave, but it turns out he crept away without anyone noticing.

* * *

Steve turns up a lot over the next few weeks. Most of the time he’s looking for Tony, and when Stark can’t be found, he drops by Jane’s lab instead. Bucky is usually here—he’s almost a permanent fixture now—and though Steve doesn’t linger much, his company is easy. Darcy thinks he really is hurting for company, until she notices the way his gaze keeps returning to Jane’s face. 

Now Darcy’s paying attention, she realizes Jane keeps glancing at Steve too.

Huh.

It makes sense though. Jane does seem to like them big and blond. 

Darcy’s happy to play matchmaker for her friend, sliding away from conversations to give them privacy. She thinks she’s subtle, but one time she catches Bucky raising an eyebrow her way, shaking his head a little.

“What?” she mouths, but he seems to realized they’re making eye contact, and ducks his head to return his attention to his book. It’s one of Jane’s recommendations. The guy might be quiet and brooding, but he must be smart to follow it: Darcy tends to use them as sleep aids.

It seems Steve isn’t oblivious either. He tracks her down to the lab kitchen one afternoon under the pretense of borrowing some milk, but really it’s to sound out how Jane might feel about dinner.

“I’m not really sure how things stand with Thor…”

“Oh, that’s over,” Darcy reassures him. “In a friendly way, but it was all spark and no substance. Plus interspecies relationships are hard enough without adding in intergalactic travel.”

“Good. That’s good. I was wondering if—”

“There’s this Japanese place in the Financial District she’s been trying to get a table at forever, but apparently a Nobel Prize doesn’t open as many doors as you’d think. If, say, Pepper could get a booking for two, I know Jane would jump at the chance to go.”

“I can do that.”

“Let me find you their details,” Darcy replies, already loading the search function on her Starkphone.

“While we’re sort of on the subject—I know Bucky doesn’t say much, and he’d kill me for talking about this, but he’s sweet on someone too.”

She frowns down at her phone and refuses to look up at Steve. If he’s about to ask her on how to help his friend to hook up with his crush, she’s going to have to politely decline. That’s a level of masochism she’s not willing to sink to.

“Uh huh,” is all she manages. “You got somewhere to note this down?”

“Darcy,” Steve says softly, “it’s you.”

That makes her look up, if only in confusion. “What’s me? If I tell you the name of this place, I suppose you can work out how to find it yourself.”

“You’re the girl Bucky’s sweet on.”

She blinks a few times. “So, uh, maybe you could just write the name on your hand?”

Steve sighs. “Why do you think he’s spending so much time in Jane’s lab?”

“He likes science.”

“He does,” Steve agrees. “But not as much as he likes you. Because you’re all he talks about.”

“Oh.” Actually, this explains how Steve knew her name when they first met. “Huh.”

“And you like him.”

“Well, he’s nice to look at. He’s pretty taciturn though.”

Steve gives her a stern look which has a glimmer of amusement behind it. “I know you like him more than that.”

Darcy tries to deflect. “So what has Bucky actually said about me? How do I know you’re not jumping to conclusions?”

“I’ve been his best friend since the 1920s. I know what it looks like when he’s carrying a torch for a girl.”

“Okay, so why are you telling _me_ this?”

“Because he won’t do anything about it.”

“You want me to make the first move,” she says blandly.

“Or you could give him an encouraging sign? He’s still learning how to function as a person again, and I think you’d be great for him. He just needs a little help getting there. Right now, he’s too wrapped up in seventy years of misery.”

“I don’t know. If he thinks he’s not ready to start dating again, I don’t want to push him.” She also doesn’t want to put herself out there in a way which is going to get her heart stomped on.

“Just continue making him feel comfortable in the lab, like you do for me. Talk to him, even if he doesn’t talk back. Treat him like a person.”

Darcy chews her lip but finally relents with a nod. “I better not end up regretting this,” she warns Steve.

“You won’t,” he promises with a soft smile, and dashes away to see Pepper about getting a table booked.

* * *

December arrives with a lot of darkness but not much in the way of snow. There’s a ton of rain and Darcy’s okay with that so long as she doesn’t have to leave the tower to go out into it.

Overnight the tower is transformed, dripping with decorations in every corridor and every room. Not all of them are Christmas decorations, either, as Stark Industries seems to have made an effort to incorporate most of the main religious festivals: Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, even Festivus.

Darcy has to explain that one to Steve and Bucky.

She’s done as Steve asked, openly talking to Bucky when he’s in the lab, but she still gets little response from him beyond a grunt or two. Undeterred, she’s taken to sitting at his preferred table when she’s typing up Jane’s notes, or doing a little knitting when Jane is lost in her own brain and hasn’t given Darcy anything to do.

It’s the latter which finally coaxed something out of Bucky.

“People still do that?” he asks, nodding at the motion of her needles. “Thought you could buy everything nowadays.”

“It’s soothing,” she replies. “Besides, sure you can buy scarves and sweaters, but if I knit something, it’s unique.”

That seems to be the end of it, but she resolves to make him a nice chunky scarf and glove set. If he hates the cold, she can help him keep warm. That project she only works on in the secrecy of her apartment, but she’s got plenty of time to knit in the lab, because Bucky’s taken over the task of transcribing Jane’s notes. He’s a slow typist but he reads Jane’s notes faster than Darcy does, and once she recommends an online typing course he picks up speed.

She leaves his gift on top of the latest pile of books Jane leaves out, and makes sure she’s away from the table when he arrives, poking around with a screwdriver at a malfunctioning circuit board.

He freezes when he sees the pile of gifts, then reaches out to touch them with his right arm. His hand doesn’t quite make it—he snatches it away as if it might get burned—and he looks across the lab at her with wide eyes and a visible swallow.

She meets his gaze and smiles at him.

“To keep you warm,” she says, then returns her attention to the circuit board.

If Steve wanted her to give Bucky a sign, she thinks she’s done what was asked. The ball is now firmly in Bucky’s court. And when she takes the knitted set as well as the books when he leaves the lab, she counts it as a victory.

One of the downsides to all of the festive decorations is that there is mistletoe every-frigging-where. Worse, it seems to move overnight, as if FRIDAY is trying to catch people out through complacency. She probably is, on Tony’s orders. Darcy’s already exchanged five pecks with Jane as they come and go from the lab, and she’s even had to give Steve a few cheek kisses. It’s more tedious than titillating at this point.

That she might meet Bucky under one of the sprigs doesn’t even cross her mind: he slinks to and from the lab at unpredictable times, never crossing paths with anyone else.  

Yet now she finds herself staring up at the ceiling with her hands on her hips, ready to tear FRIDAY a new one. The sprig definitely wasn’t there this morning. She’s pretty sure it wasn’t even there five minutes ago, but when Bucky walks over to pick up Jane’s newest notes from Darcy’s station, his head is brushed by green tendrils. Both of them look up to find mistletoe dangling above them.

Her mouth goes dry at the thought. She can see Bucky’s breathing deepen, his chest rising and falling, and when she glances away his hand twitches around the notes. 

She licks her lips. It’s involuntary, and she doesn’t want to call it anticipatory, even as she can feel his stare on her mouth as she does it. She has to flick her own gaze up to meet his, and for a moment it feels like they’re falling towards each other, drawn together by an invisible force that wants their lips to connect.

Except it must be her imagination. She lets her eyes drifts shut, feels something brush her cheek—silky and scratchy at the same time—and when she opens her eyes again she’s alone in the lab.

Bucky’s gone.

* * *

He doesn’t return to the lab before she goes home for Hanukkah, and it’s making it weird. If he’d come back that day, or the next, Darcy could have brushed off the mistletoe incident. She was all prepared to make jokes about it being nice not having to kiss Jane _again_ , but the longer she goes without seeing him, the more it feels like something fundamental has changed. She worries he might not come back at all.

In the meantime, it feels like her cheeks been branded where he kissed it. She figures that’s what she felt, his beard against her skin, and now it feels like she’s constantly having flashbacks to the sensation. Like phantom beard syndrome. 

Jane’s as frustrated by Bucky’s absence as Darcy is, even if she’s oblivious to the reason why. Darcy doesn’t catch Jane’s notation errors like Bucky apparently sometimes managed to so Jane’s had to go back to checking over the typed-up work to make sure it’s all correct. But Darcy can’t explain away his absence, not without admitting more to Jane than she wants to right now. The only saving grace is upcoming vacation time.

Another of the perks of working for Stark Industries is the overly generous vacation allowance. Darcy gets to spend two whole weeks with her family back in Ohio, and she’s ready for a break from the city. It’s only when she gets to JFK that she realizes her love of winter is going to bite her in the ass.

There’s a snowstorm. Blizzard seems a little melodramatic, but the amount of white stuff pouring from the sky is enough to get all flights out canceled for the next couple of days. The line for a cab is a mile long, and isn’t moving because few cabs are actually turning up. She breaks a lifelong vow and downloads the Uber app, only to discover all their drivers aren’t coming out into the snow either. Even the AirTrain has ground to a standstill. 

She rings up the tower to beg for a lift from somebody. Jane’s already left for Hanukkah in London with her mother, so Darcy’s left ringing around other lab assistants and finally leaves a pleading message with FRIDAY.

Her Starkphone beeps a moment later. _Someone will be with you as soon as possible, Miss Lewis,_ the AI confirms.

She trudges her way to the pick-up point, lurking inside until another bleep on her phone notifies her that her ride has arrived. She shuffles out to find an SUV waiting—one of the Stark fleet—with the plates FRIDAY has confirmed, and the driver rushes out to help her with her luggage. He’s all bundled up in black, the hood of his coat shielding his face , and she thinks nothing of it until she’s settled in the passenger seat, holding her hands up to the heating vents.

“I hope this passes quickly,” she says to the driver as he climbs back in, trying to spark a conversation “I can get a later flight out to my family, but I don’t want to miss another Hanukkah—I already spent the last few overseas.”

He makes a noncommittal sound in his throat, and the hood drops away to reveal Bucky. The beard’s been reduced to a scattering of stubble, which is why it wasn’t so obvious to her outside.

“Oh. Hi.” She belatedly pastes a smile onto her face. “How come you got lumbered with picking me up?”

“Nobody else was available.”

She’s not sure if he means it as bluntly as she says it. All she can manage is another “oh”, then she turns to face the window, watching the world pass in churned up snow and more falling flakes.

He’s a careful driver, or has the skill to keep the car on terra firma even when she can see conditions aren’t the best. She wasn’t expecting much in the way of conversation from him anyway, but she can forgive him for his silence tonight if he’s concentrating. 

Only when they pull into the underground garage below Stark Tower does the pressure return for her to speak. They’re left in momentary darkness as he kills the engine, and she can hear her own breath hitch in the ensuing silence. Then the external lights are turned on by FRIDAY, and they’re sitting in shadows within the car.

She expects him to bolt again, but instead neither of them makes a move. She studies his face, even as he does not look at her, and she can’t read him at all. The shadows does wonderful things for him: highlighting his cheekbones, and the sharpness of his jaw, and the plushness of his mouth. 

She’s staring at his mouth again.

“Thanks for picking me up,” she mumbles. Then, because she might not get another opportunity to say it, “You shouldn’t avoid the labs just because of a little bit of greenery. Jane misses you.” She takes a deep breath. “ _I_ miss you. And I think you enjoyed helping us, so it’s a silly thing to avoid us over.”

“S’more than that.” He speaks so quietly that if they weren’t in the complete silence of the garage, she doesn’t think she’d be able to hear him. And he does, eventually, look at her. “You know why.”

His eyes are black in the half-light, and there’s more of her reflected in them than anything else. But he’s being honest with her, so she needs to return the favor.

“I do. But you know it’s reciprocal, don’t you?”

Like that, he’s shuttered once more, gaze back on the steering wheel. “It’s more complicated than that. _I’m_ too complicated.”

She doesn’t know how to go about unpacking that. She squelches the urge to be flippant, because he deserves more than that. “Most people are,” she says quietly. “But maybe I’m not looking for some heavy, intense deal. Maybe I’m just looking to connect with another person.  Get to know them, see if we click, see if we’re good at keeping each other company. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You won’t until you try.”

He doesn’t respond to that. She straightens herself, steeling to leave. “Here’s the deal. Stark’s holding his usual New Year shindig up in the penthouse. I’ll be back for that. I doubt you were planning on going, but if you want to give this thing a chance, you can meet me on the terrace at five to midnight. If you don’t turn up, I won’t hold it against you. Hell, I’ll even send Steve to drag you back into the labs if you keep avoiding us. But the offer’s there.”

She’s out of the car before he can say anything else.

* * *

The party’s a little tame by Tony’s standards. It’s probably because he’s not drinking and Pepper’s the one in charge, so it’s all very tasteful. Darcy mingles, at first with Jane, then splitting off when Steve arrives and the pair start making goo-goo eyes at each other.

Their dinner date went well. Better than well. Darcy thinks Jane might be trying to decide what baby names go best with “Foster-Rogers”.

On her part, Darcy switches between soda and champagne, trying to keep a clear head by scoffing plenty of the hors d’oeuvres circulating the room. She knows Bucky isn’t here and if he does come, it won’t be before the time she’d stated. It doesn’t make her any less aware of every corner of the room, even as she’s trying to make polite conversation with Zane from Accounts. 

Outside, the sky has decided to grace them with even more snow.

Then, terrifyingly, Darcy ends up surrounded by Avengers. She gets dragged over by Jane when she’s distracted—“Come and meet everyone, Darce!”—and before she knows it, she’s wedged on a sofa between people she’s seen doing terrifying, wonderful things on TV. Sure, she already knows Steve and Tony (and Thor, but he’s not here), but it’s dizzying to be introduced to people under the unassuming names of “Clint”, “Wanda”, “Nat”, and “Sam”. 

Truthfully, it’s the women who terrify her. Natasha Romanoff is more interested in Darcy than she should be, all wolfish smiles and pertinent questions, which triggers a faint reminder that she has history with Bucky. Meanwhile, Wanda Maximoff looks through her as much as she looks at her, and though Darcy can’t feel her rummaging around in her head, she’s slightly worried it’s happening anyway.

Then the two women share smiles and it’s like Darcy’s passed a test. After that, they keep her wrapped up in conversation, plying her with bite-sized desserts and fancy soda.

It’s only when Tony sends out the call at ten minutes to midnight—“You’d all better have a glass ready!”—that she makes excuses to visit the bathroom and sneaks out. Nobody’s gone out on the terrace despite the door being unlocked because it’s just so damn cold, but Darcy retrieves her coat from the cloakroom and slips out anyway.

She finds a quiet corner away from the main windows, knowing Bucky won’t like being overlooked if he does turn up. It’s not like she wants an audience either. She’s shivering even as she shoves her hands into her pockets, and it’s from nerves as much as anything. 

She stands facing out to the city, letting the snow settle over her, enjoying the way it blankets everything in a little measure of hush that’s so rare. At midnight, she’ll be alone, but at least she’ll have a good view of the fireworks.

Then she hears a breath behind her—no footsteps, not even crunching in the snow, only a soft sigh. Darcy turns, and Bucky’s there, the softness reflected in his entire being. She’s never seen him not be tense, but tonight he’s free of it, almost on the verge of smiling.

“I thought you weren’t going to come,” she whispers. “The snow—”

“It’s not so bad,” he replies, and the corner of his mouth does crook upwards. “Might even be worth it.”

She holds her own breath, waiting for him to go on, imploring and impatient.

“A chance, you said.” His voice is low, hesitant. He reaches out and takes one of her hands, rubbing it between his own to generate a little warmth. He’s wearing the gloves she made for him. And the scarf. If she weren’t so cold, she’d melt at his feet. “Some company. A connection. I think I can do that. I think I can try.”

She’s nodding at him encouragingly, and that force she’d felt before, under the mistletoe, is back. Drawing them together, toe to toe, so close she can feel the heat from his body. He smiles at her, fully smiles, and she’s so taken aback she has to sway into him for support. Doesn’t matter; he’s ready to catch her, drawing an arm around her waist to keep her close, pressing their foreheads together.

Behind her, fireworks begin to signal the new year. Darcy has something to say, but then Bucky’s mouth is on hers, ringing in the new year in the best way possible.

Talking can wait. There are other ways to make a connection.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompts are:
> 
> What about Avengers Tower AU (my fav fannon for how it should all be, all dem bois in the tower and everything iS FINE O k) and a snowy New York, and I have a dialogue prompt to go with it: "You really hate the snow that much?" (In my head its Darcy asking Bucky, but you could do it the other way around, too!) - coffindust
> 
> Oooh! How about someone taking up knitting? (bonus points if it's Bucky) - librarianamy
> 
> I heard a rumor you want prompts!! For winter weather, all my little Aussie soul gets around here is fog, but I do remember snow from my childhood in Tasmania, so maybe snowfall?? - Ibelieveinturtles
> 
> Darcy and Bucky caught under the mistletoe. She's for it but he bolts. - anon
> 
> Darcy's flight home got canceled because of a snow storm and she doesn't have a car to go back to the tower so she asks Jarvis to send someone to get her. Everyone already had plans and Bucky's the only one available. - anon


End file.
